


you're growing on my heart

by Swordsandthings



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: M/M, The amount of times i used the words smile and blush.... Disgusting, also don't be fooled this is mostly just will and Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swordsandthings/pseuds/Swordsandthings
Summary: For the longest time Will and Tom have been rivals at the county show, fighting for the prize of best farmer in the agricultural competition and for best cook in the baking competition.One year disaster strikes and when they are unable to proceed with their banter, feelings are spilled and kisses are shared.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	you're growing on my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! Just want to warn you all to read this at your own risk bc it was born from a very silly ideas I had. To be honest I had a bit of a hard time planning the entire thing bc I had so many ideas and ways that the story could unfold and even now it doesn't make much sense

Warm light filtered the living room. Particules of dust flickered, looking golden. Tom was basking in it, sitting with one leg stretched. Joe was behind him, cutting his hair. Since he was child Tom had the habit of growing his hair during winter and cutting it when spring turned warmer. It was almost time for the county show. So much had changed since the incident from one year ago, yet this habit had stayed the same.

  
Will watched the scene, wishing he could be the one touching Tom’s hair. He always got that feeling whenever he saw him chang hairstyle. Thought he knew he would do an awful job at cutting it. He didn’t even do his own.

At least, these days Tom always let him play with his hair whenever he wanted.

  
—one year and six months ago—

  
“Please, Will, tell me what you’re growing!”

  
“Not happening,” Will couldn’t stop his smile from forming as he saw Blake pout.

  
“You already know mine."

  
“Because every year you enter the contest with cherries."

  
“It's just so I can start seeing recipes, please."

  
The county show was filled with contest. Blake's family was known for growing the best and biggest vegetables, for the longest time both Joe and Tom had participated. But the real competition had always been between Will and Tom. Some years ago Will had been forced to participate in the baking contest, his sisters wanted to prove everyone that he was the best cook, still people didn’t really appreciate seeing a man take part in a contest with a perfectly decorated cake made by himself. So, as the great friend he was, Blake had offered to join Will, the problem is that he is a terrible cook. 

  
Then there’s the county show tradition. The vegetables shown in the farming contest are attributed to someone from the cooking contest. Giving them exactly twenty four hours to cook something using the ingredient.

  
“I'm sure you’ll do perfectly,”

  
“Yeah,” Tom replied drily, “like I always do."

  
“You always win the vegetables competition."

  
Tom didn’t say anything else. Prefering to walk and admire his family handiwork with the farm. The cherry trees were filled with fruit, the flowers long gone. In a meadow close by, were sheep, happily enjoying the small amount of sun the day was offering.

  
For Will, moments like these belonged framed in a painting. Tom, touching the trees, feelings the bark with his fingertips, the gentle breeze swaing his fluffy hair. He was wearing the wool jumper Scho had knit with his sister’s help. It wasn’t perfect but two Christmases ago when Tom had opened his gift, touching the jumper for the first time he had smiled as wide as he was capable of. It was well worn now, with stitches here and there preventing holes from further opening.

  
“Wanna rest for a while?”

  
“Sure,” Will led the way. Following the path, with muscle memory, to the same place they usually rest after full mornings of hard work. 

  
Small drops of water were still on top of weeds. Leftovers from the morning dew. It’s not like either of them cared. They both sat near each other. Like usual Tom leaned down, so he could observe the sky better.

  
Absently, Will got a weed from the ground, he started fiddling with it. A soft touch tickled his face. He looked to the side. Tom smiled, he was holding a weed on his own too, using it to touch Will's face. He stopped, a heartbeat after, and touched his hands.

  
“They're so big."

  
“Maybe yours are really tiny,” a faint blush spread across Tom’s cheeks and he drew his hand away.

  
The shadows from the trees and fences stretched with time and then they started walking to Tom’s home again. 

  
“You can stay for dinner if you want."

  
“Can't," He saw Tom bite his lip, “My sisters are already counting on me."

  
“Its okay. I’m also going to cut my hair so it would probably be boring anyway.”  
They kept walking. The wild plants they had been stepping on had given way to a stone path.

  
“Why do you always let you hair grow during winter?” 

  
Consciously, Tom touched the ends of his hair, “Its warmer for winter. Better than using a hat.”

  
Will smiled. It was something so silly. Yet so personal.

* * *

  
It was June. Butterflies and honeybees were flying among the flowers. Tom was picking his cherries and he had forced Will to stand aside. 

  
“Myrtle! Come here girl! You know you mustn’t eat mum’s flowers,” she ran for them. Will played with her, scratching the spot behind her ears. He smiled, looking away.

  
“Do you want me to pick those oranges?” the fruits were ripe, a colorful orange against the dry green of the leaves that filled the tree.

  
Tom shrugged, “If you want to."

  
Later that morning they sat on the kitchen table. A radio filled the background with white noise. Will was buttering the bread he had brought from his home, fully focused on his task.

  
“Oh! This is a good one,” Tom dropped the cutlery he had been drying to try and get a better signal. He walked around, standing in front of the radio, that was in the living room, and adjusted some buttons,then a clear voice started singing. Will turned around, still holding the bread and the knife.

  
“Dance with me?” Tom asked in what will knew was his 'im not really joking but I want it to pass as that' face. He gave a short laugh as he retreated his hand and went to get the cutlery again.

  
The bread and knife were placed on top of a plate and Will gently placed his hand on top of Tom’s. He stilled his movements, “I never said no.”

  
They swayed in front of the kitchen window, letting the stray sun rays guide their movements. They laughed like little kids. Where Will's dancing moves were technical and focused, Tom's were wild and random. His cheeks were filled with a strong blush. Something heavy was settling in Will's chest, right besides his heart. This was the type of thing neither of them should feed into. Because, _this_ wasn’t just two friends dancing. It was more than that. Still neither of them would acknowledge that.

  
For the longest time, the Blake family payed Will to come and help around, sometimes they payed one of his sister’s to help clean the attic. It wasn’t like either of them needed that. It was more of a way of helping each other. They called Will to help on the more busy days. He got some coins, the Blake’s didn’t need to work as hard, everyone won. Since the beginning Tom had been behind his older brother, wanting to help too, soon he started following Will. His mother said he was too friendly, always eager to help. In the beginning it was probably that but now it was something else entirely.

  
The amount of afternoons that they had spent on the meadow, laying down, looking at the clouds, were too many to count. The times Tom got to brush Will's hair with a foolish excuse.

  
Now, Joe was working at a factory so more hands were needed. Blake’s mum was usually busy taking care of the wool or cooking something. She also did some sewing jobs for her closest friends. Which prompted Will to visit them several times.

  
The kettle that was still on top of the cooker started whistling. The moment was broken and will got a handkerchief, pouring the hot water into cups so the herbs would aromatizar it. He put it in the table.

  
“Careful, it’s hot,” 

  
Tom rolled his eyes, “as if I hadn’t seen that, genius."

  
They sat together, sharing food and looking at the orchard. Afterwards they played a card game, Tom tried to hide cards and Will got on that pretty quickly. He let him win anyway.

* * *

  
“A carrot?” Tom was looking at the vegetable Will was holding. “Really?”

  
“Really,” Will looked proudly at the carrot. It was slightly bigger than his arm.

  
“Well, mum does have a good carrot cake recipe though."

  
“Yeah, meanwhile I’ll probably have to find a new recipe with cherries yet again."

  
Tom smiled as they walked to their places. People thought that the farming competition was just about showing vegetables, when in fact it was more about presenting them. There was an entire process behind it, cleaning away any dirt, spreading bee wax so it’d look more shiny, things like that. There was also a rumour that the judges took flavour into consideration but the only moment they tasted it was in the baking competition, after having given away the prizes to the veggies.

  
_“That’s probably why mine never wins, you’re a terrible cook. Makes judges think my harvests are shit” Will had said once._

  
_“Fuck off,"_

  
A long hour passed, with the judges looking at the competition, taking notes. At the end of the day, after Will had the chance to go around the fair with his sister’s and Blake they received the awards and the ingredients were assigned to the cooks.

  
“I'm going to make the best carrot cake!” 

  
“My cherry puff pies are still going to be better,” Will chipped back.

  
“Isn’t carrot cake a bit basic?”

  
“It is not!”

  
The girls giggled and Will couldn’t help but smile a little.

  
They stopped in front of the Schofield’s house.

  
“Well, see you tomorrow then."

  
“Goodbye,” Tom waved and kept walking.

* * *

  
It was early enough to see the sun rise above the lowest bushes. Will knocked on the wooden door with peeling white paint, hoping someone was already awake.

  
“Up so early?” Will asked as Tom appeared behind the door. His hair was slightly messy, proof that he had woken up not long ago.

  
“Mum’s still sleeping so try not to make much noise,”

  
Will helped cook breakfast while Tom read the recipe book he had gotten from his mum. He made pancakes and used the milk someone had left on the counter, it was still slightly warm but he heated it anyway. 

  
When all the food was layed on the table Blake’s mum joined them.

  
“Carefull it’s all very hot, still”

  
When they finished Tom and Will cleaned the plates while Tom’s mum went into the living room to work on a sewing job. Will was washing the dishes while tom dried them. When they were nearly finished Tom blew some of the bubbles that had accumulated on the sink. They flew against the light, falling into the dark wooden floor, popping. Will smiled a little, he craddled some bubbles on his hand and smooched it on Tom’s nose. He rolled his eyes playfully and wiped it. Before he could do anything else, Schofield started touching his hair, combing it.

  
“Sorry, it was just so messy."

  
“Thanks,” Tom muttered, cheeks blushed.

  
Will put the plates back in place while Tom started cutting the carrot. 

  
“Is this what you’re making?” Will was looking at the recipe book. It was definitely a recipe that had been passed on generations. It was written in a yellow piece of paper and there were some grammatical mistakes here and there. A drawing of the cake was besides the writing, helping aid the visual viewing.

  
“It is.”

  
For a while, Will stayed by the kitchen table watching Tom cook. He wanted to help but he knew the other would protest if he were to suggest such a thing. In fact, he should already be at home, preparing his own desert. There was just such a hypnotic thing about watching someone you care about cook or create anything at all. 

  
When Will finally decided to leave, there were bits of flour on Tom’s face and clothes, he was also wearing an apron he had found in a drawer, to not agravante his clothing further.

  
At home Will cooked with Tom still on his mind. They said that whoever cooked with love in their heart and mind would cook the most delicious foods. Perhaps that’s why Will had been winning for the past five years, because he had always been thinking about the same person.

  
He wanted to be like one of the cherries he was cooking. Drowning in a simmering bath of sweetness. Will felt loved, he was comfortable in his own home but most times he couldn’t help but want something more.

  
By the middle of the afternoon Will went to the county show alone. Tom hadn’t told him anything so he deducted they were going to meet there. He got a while to walk and talk with people, he had a short walk with Lauri. When he got back to the cooking stand Tom hadn’t arrived yet. For the rest of ceremony he was uneasy, wondering what had happened. 

  
He hoped that Blake had burnt his cake or something and had been too embarrassed to show up. He knew that was very unlikely, he would always find a way around that, still it was the only thing he could hold on to.

  
“Is everything alright?,” someone asked as they saw Will walk away, holding one last of his cherry puffs.

  
“Just in a hurry. I want to get to the Blake's farm before it’s too dark,”

  
“You haven’t heard? I suppose no one must be there,”

  
“What?” Will's heart stuttered, “Why would that be?”

  
“Oh, dear. There was accident. Tom got hit by a car."

  
The pastery almost fell. Will held it as close to himself as he could. He started hyperventilating. He couldn't pass out, that could not happen. He wanted to get to the doctor but not like that.

  
Everything else was sort of a blur. Will let himself be led, the landscape blurring. There were already some people in front of the doctor's office, waiting for news. Some people were shoved aside as Will advanced.

  
“What the fuck, mate!"

  
Inside, the front hall was empty but when Will walked into the living room he saw the rest of the Blake family, teary eyed. 

  
“William,” some more tears fell from Blake’s mum eyes. He hugged her. Then he hugged Joe too. No one told him to get out so he stayed in the living room with them, waiting for something.

  
Will made a call home, warning his sisters that he didn’t know when he would return. He felt guilty, he should’ve accompany him.

  
Around three am, the doctor informed them that he was stable. Mum and Joe entered first, after a while Joe came out.

  
Joseph looked at Will, squeezed his arm tenderly, “just—,” he shrugged words lost.

  
The second Will entered the bedroom he looked at Tom. Part of his face was swollen and bruised there seemed to be a stich or two on his cheek. He had an arm and a leg in cast. Will wanted to embrace him and comfort him. He looked like he was extremely uncomfortable, and he wasn’t even completely awake. The drugs still on him.

  
Blake's mum was sitting on a chair, brushing his hair. Will reached for the hand that wasn’t wounded. He brushed his knuckles with his thumb, his fingers, his fingertips. He had never gotten to properly hold his hand. He felt tears pool in his eyes but they did not fall.

  
In the end Will had to go back home but he promised that by the end of the week he would help Tom get back home.

  
Still he would spend the night sleepless, sometimes laughing at what the doctor had said, “ _the cake definitely helped him, without it softening the blow he would be worse.”_

* * *

Will is there when Tom leaves the hospital in a wheelchair. At the Blake’s home he helps him get to his bed. Lauri went with them too. She had been away for a while studying to become a nurse.

  
“Do you want me to put you under the covers?”

  
“No,” Blake was looking at the window, his eyes looked empty. Will lowered him into the bed with Lauri's and Joe’s help.

  
“I'll go get the medicine, it’s better if it’s in your room,” Lauri left the room and Joe followed her with the pretext to get more pillows.

  
“You got out of that one, mate,” Will patted Tom’s leg, the one that wasn’t in cast.  
A small nod of agreement was the only answer he got.

  
Will didn’t really know what to say. Part of him was still a bit shocked too. He brushed Tom’s hair, a few strands had fallen on his eyes. He looked at him, wide eyed.

  
“Will,” a broken sob came put.

  
“It's okay Thomas,” Will leaned closer to the bed, trying to comfort his friend further. “You're okay.”

  
“Who's going to help mum now? The farm—”

  
“I will, Rossi said he could help too. I’m sure lots of people would offer too,”  
The grip Tom had on Will's jumper tightned, a lone tear fell from one of his eyes.

  
“My head hurts now."

  
“Would you like some chamomile tea? Maybe you could sleep a little.”

  
“I don’t know what I want.”

  
Silence fell on the room. Will sat on a wooden chair. Lauri came back and left some medicine on top of a vanity then announced she had to speak with Blake’s mum. The minute she left Blake spoke, “Will, promise you won’t abandon me.”

  
“Of course I won’t,” he wondered why he would ever think of something like that.

  
"I think of you every day and night. Whenever I see something and my first though is to say something to you. I always dreamt of sitting outside and looking at the stars,” he took a deep breath, cleaned his tears, “and kissing you,” he lips quivered.

  
“Oh,” Will found himself at loss of words.

  
“You wouldn’t hit a broken man.”

  
“Why would Will hit you?” Joe asked as he appeared, holding at least five pillows. 

  
They looked at each other, completely silent.

  
“I think he is still a bit confused,” Will said.

  
“Of course. There have also been so many people speaking with you so... I'll leave you two alone."

  
Will got up and sat on the edge of Tom’s bed.

  
“I—think about being close to you too. A lot.”

  
Tom looked at him for a couple of seconds, “alright then if there is no opposition I would like my kiss now,” they both smiled, “you know I always heard kisses help with healing wounds.”

  
“What if someone gets in again? Why not tomorrow? I’m coming here to help and Joe will be at the factory. “

  
“But—” Tom swallowed, “If it weren’t for the accident I would’ve never told you my feelings. I don’t think I can wait another day."

  
“Alright,” Will got up and sat down besides Tom, helping him scoot to the side. Will caressed Tom’s cheek and he drew closer. Tom was gripping his jumper once again. The kiss was short. Chapped lips against eachother, nevertheless it was a perfect first kiss for the both of them.

* * *

  
Working without Tom was definitely weird. He usually filled in the silence that nature couldn’t fill. For lunch, both Tom’s mum and Will took their plates to Tom’s bedroom and ate there. It was definitely easier than trying to get him comfortable in a chair.

  
When Tom was eating there seemed to be a bit of struggle because now he was holding the fork with his left hand. 

  
“Wanking is gonna be a bummer,” he said after his mother left the room with their plates. 

  
“Pretty sure you’ll get by.”

* * *

  
A week passed by with the same sorta of schedule. During one afternoon Will got to lay down with Tom, they watched parts of the pink, orange and yellow sky through the tiny window, sharing kisses in between. Will was peeling a clementine feeding pieces to Blake.

  
“I never asked you, did you win the contest?”

  
“Oh, I did.”

  
“What? And still haven’t offered me any of it?”

  
“It has gone bad by now,” Will rolled his eyes.

  
“Maybe,” Tom was playing with wills hand, folding and unfolding his fingers, “ you could make some more? There are still plenty of cherries,”

  
“Only for you,” will pecked Tom’s nose. He scrunched his eyes, blush rising on his cheeks.

  
“Since you are feeling so generous… will you jerk me off, please?”

  
Will smiled, “Are you really going to ask me that?”

  
“I mean you’re my boyfriend after all, right?”

  
Will licked his lips, “Yes.” He got up to lock the door.

* * *

  
“i want to tell mum and Joe. About us.”

  
“If that's what you want. Just—”

  
“I'm sure they won’t get mad,” Tom interjected, “They'd never do anything to hurt me. Or us.”

  
Will nodded. 

* * *

  
The nights had become warmer, with almost no breeze.

  
“Wanna go outside?” Will's voice came out muffled thanks to his proximity to Tom’s cheek.

  
“Yes, please,”

  
It was rather complicated to take Tom downstairs. He had a lot of weight with all of the added cast. Still he could do small movements with help. It took him time but in the end they were able to reach their usual spot in the farm. 

  
There was a linen sheet on the grass that Will had decided to put out. He helped Tom get on top of it. For the entire night they kissed lazily, touching each other softly. When they finally broke apart Will was able to see that Tom’s lips were red and glistening with spit, he knew his own were probably on the same state.

  
A hand touched the front of Will's pants.

  
“Not in front of the animals.”

  
“The animals are at the barn”

  
“Pretty sure there’s a cricket watching us.”

  
Tom laughed and will couldn’t help but join him. With some more kisses he was able to be coerced and soon they were making love under the moonlight.

  
They woke close to each other, still on the same place with Myrtle licking their feet. Thankfully no one said anything else.

  
In many other nights they ended up cuddling on Tom’s bed. Fingers tracing each others skin.

  
“So many freckles,” Tom mumbled amazed as his fingertips touched them.

  
“As if you didn’t know that already."

  
“Of course I had to know. _Someone_ always cleans the sweat on their face with their blouse when they forget their handkerchief. I honestly expected better from you scho,” Tom was smiling by the time he finished.

  
“You know you have some freckles too, cute.”

* * *

  
It was getting closer to September. Most of the leaves were changing colour.

  
Some days ago Tom had said “I miss touching dirt and plants.”

  
Will had gathered a tiny glass plate, some cotton and a bean. 

  
“It's yours to grow,” he announced.

  
“Pretty sure it’s gonna be more like everyone else. Not like I can get water by myself so."

  
“Well you can still do your magic and grow a giant bean.”

  
“yeah and then I’ll reach the clouds.”

The bean was germinated on top of Tom's bedside table. He even gave a name to it.

* * *

  
In January Tom was able to get the cast out of his leg. The doctor had said it was unlikely for him to ever be able to walk normally again but that didn’t bring him down. Even with the help of a crutch he was able to walk faster than Will. He finally planted his bean outside, Will helped him. 

  
When Will was busy taking care of a broken fence, Tom used a stick to play with Myrtle. He was laughing, full of joy. Even when he tripped and fell, he kept laughing as Myrtle licked his face. Schofield helped him get up, using a handkerchief to clean the slobber and kiss him on the lips.

* * *

  
The cast of Tom’s arm came off in the beginning of may. 

  
“With luck I’ll be able to catch cherries with Joe.” 

A smile never left Tom's face for the rest of the day and Will decided to cook him some special cake to celebrate.

  
“I need you to teach me how to cook. I can learn how to move my arm better like that," he said as he took another bite of the cake.

  
So they ended in the kitchen, by the counter. Tom was cooking some vegetables to make a stew, Will was hugging him from behind. He was resting his chin on top of Tom’s head, watching his hands. From time to time he steadied his left hand, helping secure whatever he was cooking.

  
“I could get used to this,” Tom mumbled.

  
“Me too.”

  
After a while the vegetables were all chopped and they were added to the pot that was on the cook.  
“Are you thinking about participating in the county show this year?'

  
“What?” Tom looked at Will, “Oh not really. I haven’t been growing anything. Maybe next year. What about you?"

  
“I'm skipping this year too.”

  
Some time later Tom got his usual haircut. On the actual county show day, they decided to stay home. It was well past two in the afternoon. Everyone had eaten lunch already.

  
Tom and Will were cleaning the plates whereas Tom's mum was outside taking care of her flowers.

Will was washing the dishes while Tom dried them. When Will tried to hand him a plate, Tom dropped his hand on top of Will's, squeezing lightly. Will's breath slowed, head slowly turning to the side. Tom was looking at him with a soft smile. They inched closer. Will's lips were so close to Blake’s cheek, he could feel the others eyelashes bat against his skin, his breath tickling. The plate was still between them and Will was doing his best to not drop it, gripping tightly. 

“Will,” it was merely a whisper. Tom kissed a spot of Will's jaw, "I love you."

  
Schofield finally out the plate aside, using his now free hand to cradle Tom’s face. His thumbs brushed the skin of his cheeks, he could feel every bump of the skin, every hair that was about to grow.

"I love you too."

  
Seconds passed and they finally got even closer to each other. Shy lips meeting, their hands, touching each other to make sure it wasn’t a dream. They would’ve stayed like that for all eternity if it weren't for a thousand million reasons that made them brake away.

  
After catching his breath, schofield smiled, “I hope that wasn’t just to coerce me to help you cook,”

  
Tom laughed, a short breath coming out, “Jesus, you’re impossible."

**Author's Note:**

> If you've gotten this far I would just like to apologize for all the historically incorrect informations in this. I tried my best to search and all that but 👉👈 I just have been anxious with life things and studying so sorry if the writing is also a bit confusing


End file.
